The Addict
by sherlollypops
Summary: After 4 minutes of exile, After the list of drugs, the only thing he wanted was her. Sorry I'm rubbish at summaries, just a new story idea I was thinking about.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! Haven't uploaded in AGES! Trying to get back in the groove of writing now I have a ton of time before uni! Hope you like this one...just an idea that I'm hoping to make a good story out of.**

"Molly, get Molly...John get Molly" Sherlock drawled as his grip on both Mycroft's arms and his consciousness loosened. John looked in panic toward Mary who looked equally as confused as him, after all hearing Sherlock call the Pathologist's name while in a drug fuelled haze was not something he expected to happen.

Mycroft looked at the husband and wife with impatience as he pulled Sherlock into the sleek black car, the exile was the last thing on his mind now, his baby brother needed him.

"John, do as he says. He's going to need her. Tell her to come to 221B as quick as possible" His words were confirmed by Sherlock who mumbled Molly's name as if it were a prayer. This was what made John pause further, he couldn't understand why Molly was needed, to him Sherlock needed medical attention and calling a woman who was supposedly just a friend seemed to waste time.

"I've got it" Mary, sensing her husband's hesitation, pulled out her phone as they followed Mycroft into the car. It didn't take long to find Molly's number and the phone was soon ringing.

"Hello?" Molly's tired reply came, she must have been on a night shift.

"Molly?! It's Sherlock-"

"Mary, if he needs more thumbs tell him to wait a week or so, I'm running low on stock right now" Molly seemed oblivious to the situation at hand, Mary silently cursed Sherlock for not telling her about his exile.

"No Molly, it's a lot to explain but you have to get to Baker Street...Sherlock, he's relapsed, he needs you"

There was a short silence, all Mary could hear was the pathologists heavy breathing and worried that she may hang up.

The pause ended with three words.

"I'll be there"

* * *

Molly nearly dropped the phone as she hung up. What started as a normal boring day slowly became the living manifestation of her ultimate fears, it brought back memories and times that she never wanted to remember. She envied him, he could delete that part of his life, the part where he hurt her in more ways than one. She would always remember it...yet she didn't hate him, like always she forgave him all his sins.

She loved Sherlock, everyone knew she loved him...even he knew it. The problem was that everyone thought they knew Molly Hooper, she was simple to them.

They didn't know the nights she'd spent having to tie him down with her dressing gown cord to stop him from violently shaking, or the words he'd spewed at her when the only liquid she gave him was tea. It was his fault, he didn't want the Rehab after they met, he always said he wanted her. It was those words that made her help the first time, and it was the memory of them that made her help the 7 times after.

No one knew that, not John, not even Sherlock.

She hoped that's why he forgot, she saw Sherlock as he was and if he ever knew the damage he'd caused to her he would never forgive himself. She hoped that in some way, that was his way of loving her back.

It's the hope that kills you in the end though isn't it? She would die helping her Sherlock simply because she hoped he would remember her for it.

* * *

It took around 30 minutes to get back to Baker Street. Mycroft had called in for some medical equipment to be set up in the flat and by the time they had shuffled Sherlock into the door Molly was already halfway down the staircase, Mrs Hudson nowhere to be found.

"Mycroft take him upstairs, I've set up an IV in order to drain the system. Also can you get rid of that idiot nurse upstairs, this time I'm going to monitor him." It was the first time since the infamous slap that John and Mary had seen Molly this assertive.

Mycroft however did not look as surprised and replied with a similar no nonsense tone,

"I've already arranged a week or so off for you at the hospital, Dr Stamford knows the situation." Sherlock kept silent throughout the exchange but kept his eyes on Molly. John would be sure to ask him to explain when he was more coherent.

Half the day had gone once they had set up Sherlock's own hospital wing in his bedroom and managed to get him to sleep while the IV flushed the drugs out. John watched as Molly had taken it upon herself to become his own nurse and spent the afternoon sitting in the corner of his room to make sure she would be there when he woke. The slip of paper with the list of drugs clenched in her hand.

"Molly? I...Why did he ask for you?" John's curiosity had surfaced as soon as he saw her looking at Sherlock.

Molly looked up at John in surprise, as if she had forgotten there was anyone else in the flat. There was a long silence as Molly deliberated on what to tell him, she was too tired to come up with a lie and John deserved to know. After what seemed like forever she blinked and quietly replied.

"The first time I met him he was high as a kite..and angry..I was a volunteering at rehab facility and he was the first addict I met, I made the mistake of trying to take away the needle he'd smuggled in...the next thing I knew I was on the floor with a gash to my head and him standing over me"

 **Well that's the first chapter! I don't know how long this is going to be but I'm hoping to at least get a coherent story out of this one. I hope you guys liked it!**

 **M xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I already had this chapter halfway done so I decided to upload it a little earlier..not really on a set timetable so bear with me :) Hope you like it!**

 **Chapter 2**

John blinked, he was trying hard to comprehend what he just heard. He'd never thought Sherlock would hurt one of his friends, not physically, the time when he nearly killed a man for hurting Mrs Hudson shot through his mind and he shook his head.

"Molly, what are you saying? He hit you?! That's not him-"

"It's not him now John, but back then he was a widely different man...you wouldn't even recognise _that_ man." Molly could understand John's struggle with the information, if anyone told her the same she would be hard pressed to believe it. It made her reflect on how different those two versions of Sherlock were, the one on the side of the Devils...and the one of the Angels.

John broke her inner musings with a thump to the wall, her head snapped up at the sound and she looked to Sherlock to check if he had woken. He hadn't.

"Tell me, how bad was he back then? How did you even get caught up in it? Why-"

"Did I stay? You see him now John? That compassion, the sense of right and wrong was completely non-existent when I met him...but I knew, when I saw him over me there was a moment where our eyes locked" Molly paused, she knew how sentimental she sounded and part of her didn't want John to know how pathetic she was, completely enthralled by him even though he'd made her bleed. Most women would avoid him, never wanting anything to do with a man filled with such anger.

"...I saw the pain in his eyes John, I saw that he felt remorse...It was then I knew that I would always try to help him, ten years later here I am" John looked at Sherlock as she said the last part, he knew they'd worked together before he moved in but the fact Molly had known Sherlock more than most had made him understand why she stayed.

After all he'd seen, the manipulative exchanges on his part, the lovesick responses or hers. He thought she was oblivious to it all but he realised that she knew all along, carried on with the charade simply because it's the dynamic that Sherlock wanted. Whatever she did was for him.

 _If it were Mary and I, I'd probably do the same thing._

John had completely grown a newfound respect for Molly Hooper, she was _The_ Woman that Sherlock would only ever need. Irene Adler be damned.

* * *

Sherlock began to stir, Molly and John both cleared their throats in a silent agreement to stop the conversation for now. John watched as Molly's expression changed from sad and sour to calm and relieved, he watched as she put the list of drugs in her jumper pocket and walked over to Sherlock's bed. John decided to give the two privacy and left, intent on discussing the new turn of events with Mary.

As John left, Sherlock opened his eyes ever so slightly and shut them quickly due to the harsh bright light coming from the window.

"Sherlock? Are you hungry? thirsty? I can get you whatever you need" Molly said as she closed one of the curtains, making the room slightly dimmer. Sherlock opened his eyes again and looked at Molly, a slight frown on his face.

He'd heard everything that was said between Molly and John and he was searching his brain to find any memory that proved what she had said was true. The darker days of his youth were blurry and half forgotten, whether it was the drugs or the unwillingness to want to remember he didn't know. All he knew was that Molly was there, that he needed her as she was the only one that ever managed to stop him...even if it was short lived. Then something popped in the forefront of his mind.

* * *

 _He was gripping the arms of a young woman, one of the medical volunteers he didn't care to know the name of...a stuttering little thing that only seemed to annoy him since the day she arrived._

 _His grip loosened as she was stumbling back, the only thing he needed being gripped in her hand._

 _"Give me back my needle!" he lunged with a rush of adrenaline, his shaking hand hitting the first thing it came into contact with. The side of her face._

 _The male doctors surged into action, grabbing him tightly and moving him away from her shell shocked form, the adrenaline was gone, he felt tired and numb and all he could see was dark brown eyes looking at him intensely as the doctors administered a sedative directly into his arm._

* * *

The memory had sent Sherlock into a frenzy, he remembered more, nights of torture and cold turkey after a hard hit. The look on her face as he spewed vitriol, he blamed her for not letting him have the drugs...even blamed her for letting him fall off the wagon.

* * *

 _"Little Molly, you think this shitty cord can hold me down, I'll get out"_

 _"LET ME FUCKING GO!"_

 _"_ _This is your fault, if-f-f you weren't so weak"_

* * *

How could he ever hurt Molly? She was his friend, his pathologist,

 _His._

Worst of all how could he have ever forgotten?! He hated himself, after hearing everything she said he still could not understand how she could even stand the sight of him. He needed for her to leave, to get away from him.

A gasp left Sherlock which caused Molly to look at him in worry. Was he in pain? Why wouldn't he speak?

"Sherlock?! What was it? Are you hurting?! Tell me!"

After searching his body to see any signs of pain and seeing none she looked at his face, finding him completely stoic. She was about to ask what was wrong, a sense of panic hitting her heart, but she was interrupted by the words that he had never, not even during cold turkey, said to her.

"Get out. Don't come back."

 **Well, I dunno where all that came from but there's chapter 2 for you! Tell me what you think and I'll try to write and upload as quickly as I can.**

 **Have a good day kids!**

 **M xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey lovelies back again! I wanted to upload earlier but Wales were playing in the euros! This may seem like an ending but I promise there will be more to the story.**

 **Hope you like it.**

 **Chapter 3**

Molly stared at Sherlock for what seemed like, to him at least, forever. It was off putting, the more she stared the more he was regretting his words, he couldn't discern the look on her face, he had expected sadness but there was none. There was nothing, no anger, no frustration and certainly _no sadness._

He realised that he was more bothered by her lack of reaction than if she would have given one. No response meant that people didn't care, that it hadn't registered to them, that it wasn't important. She was Molly, the most caring person he'd ever met and he'd never once encountered such an emotionless reaction from the petite pathologist.

In all the times he'd told her she counted, that she was important...she'd never once said it to him. Maybe that's the reason for it. His reasoning was flawed of course, she was always there to keep him safe and she always made sure he came first. Of course he was important to her.

 _But she's never said it has she?_

 _Maybe you've become a burden, maybe she's too polite to refuse…._

The niggling voice in his head that sounded too much like Mycroft made it's presence known. It was annoying him.

Sherlock stopped his thoughts and waited a few more seconds for Molly to speak. He looked at her while trying to remember to school his expression into one of indifference, he was sure he let a frown out during his slight moment of contemplation. It didn't matter either way, he wasn't good for her no matter how much he'd changed, he needed her to go before he gave in and clung to her forever. Before he could open his mouth to tell her to leave again she answered.

* * *

Molly let a breath out slowly, she didn't know how long she was looking at him. What she did know was that he didn't mean it, he was the one calling for her this morning and she was the one that kept him safe from himself.

Something must have changed. Molly thought back to the moments that Sherlock was awake, did he say anything then? No if anything he clung to her as she help pull him to his room...then what must have?...oh.

"You heard John and I" It wasn't a question, Sherlock's eyes widened ever so slightly before he tried to look calm.

"What are you talking about Molly? What have you and John been saying?" he scowled for added effect. He wasn't fooling her, Molly wasn't a consulting detective but she could read him like a book.

"Sherlock, you've never lied to me...you've done almost everything but, so please, don't start now" Molly sat on the bed. She wasn't leaving, even if she had to handcuff her to him she'd never leave. Sherlock looked down, his resolve gone, she'd won.

"Yes, I heard, I forgot Molly….I deleted it or I just couldn't...and then you said it all to John and I remembered again. How could I have ever done all those things to you? What if I did them again?..." Sherlock had never been this quiet but he couldn't be himself right now, he couldn't be the sociopathic detective. He, at this moment, was just a man this time.

He felt her small hand cradle his softly, it sent warmth through him and in that moment he wanted to forget the past hour, in fact he wanted to forget the past 6 months. He was tired of only being able to have her this close when he was high.

"Sherlock, believe me when I say that I would never let that happen. I am not the same woman you met ten years ago. I am stronger, it's not always apparent but I am more than the weak volunteer I was then."

Molly took a deep breath, she realised that time was now and she needed to say everything that needed to be said. She just hoped that he wouldn't push her away even more. Molly knew that Sherlock loved her but she was not sure on how much, or even in what way. If he wanted her as a friend then that's what she'd be, but he needed to know.

"Sherlock, when you love someone you take the good with the bad, there will never be a day where I won't want you in my life. If that means the good is you asking me for dead body parts at stupid o'clock in the morning and then I'll take it."

Sherlock squeezed her hand as she said this, he wanted her to be his pathologist...but he couldn't help feel that he wanted more, he wanted her at 221B sitting on his chair with a cuppa and one of her rubbish horror books, he wanted mummy to tell him how lovely she was, he wanted her to help him keep bees when he was old and grey.

He wanted her to be Doctor Molly Holmes.

It took him around three seconds for him to realise he'd said it all out loud.

"Um-shi-Molly I didn't...mean.."

Molly mused that, for a detective, he was a rather slow on some things. Despite this her smile grew with every stutter from the man she loved. The idiot actually loved her back.

"I hope that wasn't an actual proposal, while I'll admit you're the only man I will ever want to keep bees with...I'm not letting you off that easily" Sherlock relaxed in his bed, he still doubted himself and there was still a part of him that was waiting for her to run but as always she was right, when you love you take the good with the bad.

"Sherlock you need to sleep more but if you wake give me a shout, I'll be on the sofa for tonight. Mrs Hudson wont be back from her sisters' til tomorrow night so we can talk over a cuppa in the morning okay?" Molly got up to leave but she felt long cool fingers grip her wrist tighter and pull her towards the bed.

"Stay here" The irony that he was speaking the complete opposite words to what he said 15 minutes ago were not lost on them. Molly cracked a smile.

"I'm in my jumper"

"I have a top and shorts in the top drawer" Sherlock managed to pull her to sit on the bed, directly next to him.

"I have pyjamas...they're just in the living room" Molly teased in response, him still not letting go.

"I know, I just want you in mine"

Molly stopped trying to argue after that.

 **Hope it was a good one, I got a few suggestions on how to develop this but I felt Molly wasn't gonna take his rubbish this time. All up for BAMF Molly!**

 **I'd love suggestions about character or anything like that so feel free!**

 **Til next time folks!**

 **M xx**


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